


Flatline

by Klaudie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2019-01-20 11:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaudie/pseuds/Klaudie
Summary: "Words don't describe how much I love you. You were my rock for the longest time, and I love you for that. There isn't a day where I don't wonder what would've happened if I hadn't let you try to heal alone and there isn't a single day where I don't regret not talking some sense into you. If I could go back in time, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I'm sorry for failing you, Alfred." R/R





	Flatline

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on FFN. I anticipate very dark things. Be warned: dark skies ahead. I'm done now, I swear, but this is going to be very dark. I'm not sure what really prompted this, but I guess you can take a good enough guess from the title. I'm going to warn you ahead of time, I briefly address some historical events that happened in this such as the Burning of Washington, the Civil War, the Wall Street Crash and the Great Depression, and other things like that.

**Flatline**

* * *

_"There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, deep contrition, and unspeakable love."_

\- Washington Irving

* * *

Matthew sighed heavily as he sat down by his brother's bed. The steady beeps, clicks, and chirps of machines echoed in the background as he tried to mute them out. He wanted this moment to concern just him and Alfred, and he didn't want some stupid machines to ruin it. He groaned as he folded and clasped his hands together. He stared up at the window. His head felt heavy as he tried to avoid looking at Alfred.

"Hey... Alfred? Remember when we were little?" Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat and continued. "Remember how you used to promise me the world? How you used to point up at the sky and laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and remember how you promised me that one day you'd conquer it, and you'd fly up there? Remember how everyone else dismissed this as a childhood fantasy? Remember? And remember how I believed you, and remember how I promised that when you achieved this, I'd be right with you?" The lump in his throat greatly grew, and he reached for a glass of water, downing the whole thing. He shifted in his seat before continuing, his voice raspy with emotion.

"It was funny," Matthew continued, "but now, remembering how nervous they were when they were introducing us, I'm pretty sure that Arthur and Francis thought that we wouldn't get along. It was the fact, I think, that we were neighboring colonies back then, with great potential to become actual countries, and that was part of what made them think so, and another part of it was also the fact that not many neighboring countries back then really got along. But we proved them wrong, didn't we? We grew up to become pretty good friends, brothers, and we proved them wrong, right?" His voice upped an octave as he said that last word. He poured himself another glass of water. He couldn't stop talking now.

"And remember the fights? Like the War of 1812? And the Burning of Washington? Remember? I had been so mad back then, I remember. Your attack on my land had, for the most part, not been provoked, and I remember that rage that had poured through me when I had learned of it, the rage directed at you. And then, afterwards, when I saw you crippled in that burning building, screaming and writing in pain because your capital was burning, I don't know... it was like the anger, the rage, the adrenaline, and the hate just melted out of me. Because, by God, I was angry, I was beyond angry, but I certainly wasn't angry enough to want to see you like that. I'm not so sure that I ever apologized for that, by the way. I know it's a little too late, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry." Matthew choked on his words, resting his head in his hands.

Matthew gasped for air before he continued. "God, and remember how you were during your Civil War? To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure how you could forget. I certainly couldn't." A trembling smile passed over his lips as he chuckled dryly, but the laugh lacked its usual cheerfulness and... laughter itself. He broke into a fit of coughing. "You know, the whole split personalities thing... although, at the time, it wasn't too funny, considering the circumstances, but now, looking back on it, you were basically just one mass of contradictions lumped together into one bickering life form, each of which was trying to break out and make itself heard. Some of the stuff you said back then was pretty ridiculous, you know? There was never a dry moment."

His voice grew quieter and more serious. "Remember the U.S. admission into World War I? God, after you had declared neutrality, you were so frustrated because of all of those times when your neutrality was ignored, but you still stayed neutral. But the Zimmerman Telegram and the unrestricted submarine warfare that resulted in the sinking in some of your ships... that did you in. Back then, it had been such a long time since I had seen you that utterly ticked... it scared me, Al. You scared me. I think, no, I know that you scared Arthur and Francis as well. There had been so many instances in the preceding decades where someone annoyed or frustrated you, but truly angered to to that point? You scared us, Al. Most of us just played it off as worry of the current events, but Alfred, that didn't change anything, how we felt about it all."

"And remember the Wall Street Crash and the Great Depression?" The lump formed again in Matthew's throat, and he took a quick sip of water to make it go away. "God, I don't think you even understood just how concerned we all were. The affects of it rippled throughout the world, everyone felt them, but you bore the brunt of it. I remember, Al, the first month after that crash, how you were confined to your bed with crippling fevers. Remember? That was the first time in a long time that Arthur willingly stayed at your house to take care of you, Alfred. And you probably don't remember this, you were in a fever-induced delirium then, but on more than one occasion did Francis come and stay over for nights at a time as well. When the fever broke, we were so relieved, but the depression was still in full force, and you didn't have the fever to mask a lot of the effects that you went through... and, Al, you were so depressed back then, I remember on more than one occasion you telling me just how much you wanted to die..." Matthew shook his head wildly, tears pricking at his eyes as he gasped. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Matthew paused for a few minutes to recover his stride, and as he finally continued, his voice shook wildly. "And... Pearl Harbor..." The lump in his throat came back at full force, and he paused for another minute to gather his thoughts and words.

"You know, before that attack, we had asked you repeatedly to join the war. You had declined each time, with a pained look on your face, and said that your country couldn't get any more involved in the affairs in Europe. Although you provided some aide, you refused to declare war, and you wanted to maintain that sense of peace, neutrality, and when your hopes for that were shattered... Al, you had just about snapped, something in you just... broke that day. I remember the shock on everyone's faces as you limped into our meeting with the announcement that Pearl Harbor had been bombed and America was joining the war. I remember, you were in such terrible shape, and when Arthur told you that you needed to get medical help, your ears had been bleeding because of the explosions and you didn't hear him, so when he tapped your shoulder, you were startled and you whirled around and pointed a gun at his head before you realized that it was just him. You startled him when you whirled around like that, Alfred. You shocked all of us. Because for the first time in such a long time, we could see the agony in your expression and the desperation on your face. Alfred, you had always hidden many of your emotions, and rarely let them show to anyone other than your family, so when you whirled around like that, looking so broken, I think that was when we all realized, that you were _breakable_ , you were just as fragile as the rest of us were, and that deep down, you were just as human as we all were."

His shoulders shook as he recalled all of this, and the utter agony that had been on Alfred's face as he had spun around in that moment. The reality of it was that Matthew had vastly understated it. It wasn't just agony and desperation that had showed its faces that day, it was also an aura of heartache, utter sadness, betrayal, and sorrow. Words didn't even begin to describe what he had seen in Alfred that day, and words would probably never even begin to describe it, but it was heartbreaking. He had always been so strong, had put on such a mask of happiness, and to see it crack like that had been devastating and shocking to them all. None of them had said anything about it, but Matthew deeply regretted leaving Alfred to the darkness of his mind. A part of it had cracked that day, had left him prey to an utter darkness that he wasn't really used to.

"And after that... the Cold War. Alfred, dear lord, you scared us all so badly then. You changed. It was like a part of you had died after World War II, after the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and that guilt that you felt for everything. You know, it was like that was in particular made you more aware of how your actions might affect others and you truly realized the impact that one word can have. You were more prone to guilt, God knows that I saw the mental state that you were in after you saw the aftereffects of your actions and the Manhattan Project. You were so guilt-ridden, your mind had been cracked by it, and to this day I wonder what would have happened differently if I had stepped in and helped your mind heal. Would the Cold War happened? But it was like you suddenly became aware of everything and everyone, and you wanted to try to help, although that didn't work out for everyone. You'd always been incredibly sensitive and empathic to things going on around you, but those senses drastically increased after all of that, and things started breaking down around you, things the you didn't know how to handle."

Matthew took a deep breath before continuing. "But back on topic... Alfred, everything that you used to embody... sort of changed, I guess. It stood for different purposes, Capitalism vs. Communism, and that one American nation that used to refrain from most European affairs that didn't directly concern itself all of a sudden changed and started involving itself in everything and anything that was mildly relevant to the topic at hand. A part of you had died, had shattered, and was gone, and as you immersed yourself into the Cold War, you and Ivan both brought your nations to the brink of a total nuclear war, while the rest of the world looked on in a sort of fear of what this had become. I was so scared that I'd never see the brother that I knew and loved ever again, and then Communism fell. The rest of the world could breath a sigh of relief... or could we? Because after that, I kind of expected the Alfred who refrained from infringing on the majority of European affairs back, but I soon discovered that that was the part of you that had died. Before, I could tell that there was a part of your mind that had broken, but I couldn't really tell what, but after the fall of Communism, it was pretty easy to identify which part had died. I suppose that deep down, a part of me knew that that what what had broken, but I think that I had expected that part to come back, but it never really did."

Matthew drank some more water. As he set the glass down, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve before burying his face again in his hands. He lowered his voice even more as he blinked back tears. "And... remember 9/11?" His voice shook badly as he blinked back more tears. "You know, there was a part of you that had started healing itself, finally. Arthur noticed it, Francis noticed it, I noticed it, and God... when those attacks happened, that healing part of you broke again. All healing that had been done had been eradicated, and for a while there I was scared that you'd completely revert to the way you were during the Cold War. And..." Matthew choked on his words, grasping for the air where what he had tried say once was. He blinked in frustration and scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. "well, you get what I'm trying to say."

He yawned, checking the clock. He didn't have much time left to talk. "Alfred... you know, you're an idiot. But you're a lovable idiot, and you're my brother." Matthew scrubbed at his eyes again, desperately trying not to cry, but he couldn't hold back his tears any longer and he started sobbing. He sunk forward to his knees and grabbed Alfred's unresponsive hand, clutching it to his cheek, and his voice broke as he tired to speak. "G-god. Y-you idiot. Why? Why? Why did you take that bullet? A-a-and what possessed you to keep it to yourself? Why didn't you tell us that you were hurting? W-W-WHY?!" His voice rose to a scream as he screamed at the comatose man. The heart monitor's quiet beeping was his only response in the once-silent room.

Matthew sobbed harder. "W-why, Al? I'm your brother, you could have told me anything, did you not know that, you idiot? I-I thought you at least knew that. It's not fair!" Matthew screamed, his sobs racking his body as he buried his head in his hands before lifting it to look back at his brother. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. His voice shook as he spoke.

"Y-y-you know, Al, people say that people in comas can hear you, so I'm speaking to you now, you idiot. Words don't describe how much I care for you. You were my brother, my rock, for the longest time, and I love you to death for that. There isn't one day where I don't wonder what would have happened if I hadn't let you try to heal alone, if I had stepped in, and there isn't a single day where I don't regret trying to talk some sense into you when you were going though those hardships. I regret it all, Al, and if I could go back in time and change it for the better, I would in a heartbeat. I'm sorry that I failed you." He gulped as he refolded his hands.

"S-s-so, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you, Alfred, and I'll miss you." Matthew warily glanced up to Alfred's pale face. His voice shook with heavy emotion and fear and tears fell from his eyes as he spoke again.

"H-h-he-hey, Alfred, Alfie, Al, you can hear me, . . . right?"

The only response that Matthew ever got was the single, interminable, empty beep of the flatlining heart monitor.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: ...the hell did I just write. I'm sobbing. But lots of author's notes to add. First of all, this is an AU. This is my interpretation of history, not strictly what actually happened. I don't need to hear complaints that this isn't historically accurate, or it doesn't strictly stick with the history textbooks, because that wasn't my intention, my intention while writing this was to record some of Matthew's memories and regrets concerning Alfred and how some important historical events affected him. Seriously, please don't send me flames or hate for this. This, in no way shape or form, was meant to offend anyone. Second of all, the Zimmerman Telegram was one of many things that provoked U.S. intervention during WWI. Basically, German leaders sent a telegram to Mexico offering an alliance. There's a lot more to it, but I want to keep this short, so if you want to learn more about it feel free to google it. Third of all, as for the reason why Alfred was comatose, I mentioned a bullet, but I didn't really mention exactly what happened. I didn't really dream up the reason why he was in that state, so you can just use your imagination for that. I might write something on it in the future, but I don't have anything planned.


End file.
